Page 35 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

Landing within Orpheus’ blue protective dome, Lindiwe immediately approached the vacant home.

With hurried movements, she ghosted her way through the front door. Once tangible, she headed down the hallway. Each of her thudding footsteps seemed to make her heart race faster. Anxiety shimmered in her veins, as did anger, confusion, and so many emotions she was struggling to swallow down.

With her throat thick, she entered what must have been Katerina’s room... and knelt. Cupping her hand around the bottom of the first stack of journals, she yanked them out from underneath the bed. Then she hoisted them up, placed them on the bed, and grabbed the first leatherbound book.

Lindiwe no longer cared about Katerina’s privacy, not with the motherly rage coursing through her. She wanted answers.

The book creaked as she opened the half-filled journal. And with each line she read, her hands shook, her nails dug into the leather, and her eyes scanned each word faster and faster until she was heaving through panted, near-hysterical breaths.

Words jumped from the page, and each one had her stomach tightening with disgust.

Monster. Beast. Ugly. Repulsive. Stupid. It was like Katerina had tried to use every word in the English language to describe her beautiful skull-headed child as repugnant. Evil. Demonic. Vile. And if she couldn’t find one, she’d use a string of carefully – almost artistically – crafted insults.

An affront to nature. A desecration of the purity of the mortal realm. A grisly eyesore.

The sound of each page turning scraped against her ears, and the feel of them grew coarser as her blood pounded in her fingertips.

She called him a fucking animal and then went on to say that he was as useful as a well-trained mutt.

She never saw him as a person. A being who had thoughts and feelings that were kind. No, she always considered him a deplorable monster, a being of destructive death, even as Lindiwe read through years of foul days transcribed.

Her eyes welled with tears at the depth of hate written down.

The journals started not long after he went to the Demon Village for the first time, and they grew more chaotic as time passed.

And it wasn’t just hate.

Somehow, Katerina was disgusted by his very presence, the air he breathed out, and even the ground he walked upon. She despised... everything.

She detailed all this fear, all this terror. How she was afraid he’d eat her in the middle of the night or drag her to the pits of damnation.

How her soul, as much as her body, was tainted by just being here.

She lied to him. Manipulated him. The only joyful words were about how she was the master of a Duskwalker that knew how to come, sit, and stay like a rotten pet. Then she detailed how much she despised him for making her do anything positive, as if it was his fault that she’d made those decisions.

Every time she patted him? She was disgusted with herself, feeling the need to scrub her hands. Every cuddle she gave him, she did so spitefully. And sex... everything written about it was horribly skewed towards a woman who used it as a form of control and then utterly blamed him for it.

When the weight of the words became too much, her legs grew weak, and Lindiwe ended up seated on the side of the bed.

No matter how much she wanted to stop reading, she found herself incapable of doing so.

She was so absorbed in learning Katerina’s innermost thoughts that page after page turned as if by their own will.

“He never had a chance,” Lindiwe whispered as she looked over Katerina’s recounts of conversations. “She thought he killed her brother. Someone named Blakely.”

“But we know he didn’t,” Weldir answered.

“I know. And he knew that,” Lindiwe said, shaking her head. “He tried to tell her, but he just... he didn’t have the capability at the time to properly explain it.”

And from what Lindiwe read, it wouldn’t have mattered. Katerina refused to believe him, instead calling him a liar. Because why would a vile monster tell her the truth? She remembered what she wanted from their meeting because it aided her hatred and discredited his truth.

When Lindiwe finally couldn’t take any more, she threw the journal she’d been reading to the side and drew her legs up, placing the heels of her feet on the edge of the bed. She wrapped her arms around her knees, and a sob broke from her.

“I shouldn’t have intervened,” Lindiwe said, pressing her face against her bent knees. “I shouldn’t have tried to help.”

If she’d just stayed out of it and let nature run its course, Katerina wouldn’t have survived as long as she had. She would have died either by Orpheus’ fangs or a Demon’s. Perhaps even sickness would have gotten her.

Katerina wouldn’t have ‘suffered’ for the last five years, and Orpheus wouldn’t be running through the Veil with his heart gutted. Lindiwe wouldn’t have to bear any of this guilt.

If I’d known that Katerina was so hateful, I would have taken her away long ago. There was never any room for Orpheus in her heart.

Any recounts of Lindiwe in those journals were just as horrible.

She didn’t mind those insults; she could bear them. She may even think she deserved a few, but so much of it was twisted by the perspective of someone who hated her just as much, if not more, than Orpheus.

Because she was human and had done nothing to help. Instead, she’d aided a monster. Katerina called Lindiwe a monster due to her ‘witchcraft.’ A woman who had sinned and whored her soul to a devil.

Weldir was no devil, and he’d spent much of his time trying to help humans. Whether that be by bringing predators and prey to Austrális, or letting her aid humankind, he was... benevolent. He cared for the souls he consumed and wanted to give them a peaceful eden to rest in.

But of course, talking to Katerina had always been an arduous and difficult task.

I thought they were... happy. Well, as happy as the cranky woman could be. I thought she was beginning to love him.

He doesn’t deserve any of this.

Sure, he was to blame for kidnapping her, as was Lindiwe, but had she just let the hate-filled human be eaten, then all would’ve been well.

Worse still, Katerina knew that. She’d detailed that she likely would be dead now if not for Lindiwe’s aid, and she was thankful for it. It meant she could still escape, could still plot to end him.

So... why go with Jabez?

Grabbing each journal, she placed them into a pile. She picked them up and held back a squeak when the stack began to topple before she righted it. Then she turned intangible and threw herself through the wall and outside.

Once solid again, she sprinted across his territory and into the forest.

“What are those?” Weldir asked when she stopped to look back at Orpheus’ home.

“Journals.”

“Why do you have them?”

“Because if he knows how to read, or ever learns, I don’t want him to read such filth. Such hatred,” she answered, hugging them to her chest tightly. When the top book began to slip, she quickly pushed it back onto the stack with her chin. “I... don’t want him to believe the words of a bitch.”

“That’s quite the insult for you, Lindiwe.”

She lowered her gaze. “I know I’m not always the most agreeable person, but I care about everyone.

Even if they’re different from me, or believe in things I don’t, everyone deserves respect.

I don’t have to agree with them, but that doesn’t make them any less of a person.

She’s a bitch because she hurt my son, thinks of him in a vile way, and wants to kill someone who was trying everything in their power to keep her safe. ”

Because... although I understand why she was upset about being taken, her actions since then have been less than pure.

One can’t fight evil with evil and then call themselves just.

And taking advantage of the ignorant is cruel. Even if that ignorant being had a skull for a face. Playing games with his emotions, and finding ways to punish just so she could punish, was unfair. And then blaming him for her own choices...

She abused Orpheus any chance she could.

Manipulated him. Punished him over the smallest of things just so she had a reason to and then rewarded him simply to keep him compliant.

Because a person, no matter who or what they were, could only take so much abuse before snapping, and she knew that.

And still, somehow, with all the nasty things she felt guilt over, she blamed Orpheus for making her feel that way.

She blamed him for her own actions.

She even noted that had he not been a disgusting monster, she might have been happy. But then those lines were crossed out as if she’d regretted writing that truth.

If only Weldir’s magic had been able to go inside their ward so he could see their home properly.

Him being trapped to the outside of it and able to look in from the other side had its drawbacks.

Even he , someone who was inept with human emotions, would have seen how fucking wrong it was.

I would have taken her to the closest village, with coin, and let her find someone else to throw her abuse at.

Orpheus’ only mistake was taking her, but she could have been taken away again just as easily had Lindiwe known the truth.

And that’s entirely my fault. I should have done more, should have tried harder to break down Katerina’s walls.

She shouldn’t have trusted what she saw at face value, because it’d all been a lie.

All the affection she’d witnessed, the way they’d apparently cared for each other, Lindiwe had never seen the hate in it all.

I shouldn’t have trusted Weldir’s judgement, nor Orpheus’.

They were both inhuman beings, who wouldn’t have understood. All of Katerina’s pain, all her hate... it should have been directed at me. I’m the one to blame, not my son, who just wanted someone to fill the loneliness in his big heart.